


i'm fond of you (as i've never been of anyone or thing in the world)

by NoxWrites



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, do I care? NOPE, i have no clue what this is, im an angst lord not fluff so idk what this is, is it good? probably not, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxWrites/pseuds/NoxWrites
Summary: Charlotte scoffs. “Of course not. I know you took a risk in coming to see me that night, but you do not have to take it again.”Isabella’s grip falls away and her mouth is hung slightly open, disbelief and confusion adorning her face. “Charlotte.” Her voice quivers with the informal name. “I do not regret that risk, and if I had a chance to do over that night knowing the outcome I would go to you again. You are worth the risk, darling.”





	i'm fond of you (as i've never been of anyone or thing in the world)

**Author's Note:**

> is this good? probably not. has it been proofread? nope. do i care? nope. should i? probably. am i posting it anyway? absolutely.

She couldn’t feel her feet anymore, the soles of her heels have been caked in blood at this point. She passes the baker’s for the fifth time but instead of turning left and going in the circle around Greek Street she has been following she turns right. Something in her pulling her into the gilded part of town. Her steps waiver from time to time, the strength she had at the beginning of her trek has dried out. She makes it all the way to the bridge that connects the Golden Square to its park. 

 

Her hands hover over the rail and she has to withdraw quickly as she doesn’t want anything smooth on her skin, her mother’s skin was smooth. That’s when she breaks. Her back turns against the high railing and she lets a few sobs wretch from her soul, her arms fold on herself because her mother isn’t here to give her the hug she needs. Her shoulders quake with frustration and anger and sadness and everything in between. 

 

“Miss Wells?” 

 

The voice is familiar, it’s a different warmth than what she wants but it’s a warmth nonetheless. She needs warmth. Her head looks up, tearing her eyes away from the cobblestone path of the bridge. Isabella stands at one of the bridge and takes steps closer, a long pause between each one as if she’s afraid to approach. 

 

Charlotte wipes at her eyes and sniffles the tears away as best she can. “Lady Fitz, how are you?”

 

“Darling, I believe I should be the one asking that question.” Finally, Isabella is in front of her, offering both hands to bring Charlotte back to her feet.

 

Charlotte rises to her feet, she stumbles twice but eventually, Isabella’s hand finds her waist and she’s steady. Isabella waves off someone on the side of the bridge she came from and Charlotte listens as a carriage pulls away from the bridge. Isabella turns Charlotte around and the two walk back into Golden Circle. 

 

When the first set of onlookers makes a commotion Charlotte pulls away, her arms cross over her stomach and she keeps an arm's length away from Isabella. She misses the warmth instantaneously. She doesn’t look at Isabella’s face, doesn’t see the confusion and shock. She keeps walking and the two make their way to the edge of the Golden Square. She stops abruptly and as Isabella is about to take a step out of the square she pulls her back. 

 

“I know my way from here, thank you Lady Fitz.” Charlotte takes a step away and takes a last glance at Isabella before turning around.

 

Isabella doesn’t let her get more than three steps before tugging her back. “Did I do something?”

 

Charlotte scoffs. “Of course not. I know you took a risk in coming to see me that night, but you do not have to take it again.”

 

Isabella’s grip falls away and her mouth is hung slightly open, disbelief and confusion adorning her face. “Charlotte.” Her voice quivers with the informal name. “I do not regret that risk, and if I had a chance to do over that night knowing the outcome I would go to you again. You are worth the risk, darling.”

 

Charlotte’s tears begin to fall again and she shakes her head furiously. “No, no I am not.”

 

“Please, Charlotte. I know what it is to lose your family. Let me help you.” Isabella takes a step closer to her.

 

Charlotte does not want to be cold, she wants someone with her. So she nods her head and Isabella intertwines their arms. The two of them start for Greek Street, leaving the Golden Square behind with no care for those who see. 

  
Charlotte expects Isabella to leave her at the door, to say goodbye and they will part their ways indefinitely. Charlotte no longer has a connection to Isabella, Lydia would be sure of it, and Isabella has her daughter safe. The two would just be passing ships in the dark, aware of each other’s presence but never to interact. Except, Isabella takes her to the door and then through the hall, she waves to Pa and Nancy who are peering through the door to the kitchen, and then she takes Charlotte upstairs. 

 

At first, Charlotte can sense Isabella’s hesitancy, not knowing where to go or which room is appropriate, so she gently tugs at Isabella’s arm to follow her. She opens the door to her room, not a room for culls, not the shared quarters she sometimes sleeps in when she feels alone, but her room. The one Ma had ready since Charlotte went to Quigley’s, in case of emergency she had said. 

 

“Is this..?” Isabella’s words trail off into silence.

 

Charlotte closes the door behind them, “This is my room. My actual room.” 

 

Isabella takes a look around, she spots the dolls and trinkets that adorn her furniture. She sees the tinctures that hold her makeup at her vanity mirror, she runs her hand on the curtains before closing them. She turns back to Charlotte with a shy smile. 

 

Charlotte removes her heels, the soles of them ruined, the pads of her feet sore, and her muscles aching. She falls back against her bed and her sobs begin to rack her body once again. She curls in on herself and starts to sob, a pause as she feels hands at her back and then the sobs steady as she feels Isabella pulling apart her laces and tugging clothing away from her. 

 

“I need you to sit up, darling,” Isabella whispers in her ear.

 

Her body listens, her body already under the spell of Isabella’s voice and warmth. She sits and waits as Isabella pulls layer upon layer away. 

 

“This would be much easier if you helped, darling.” Isabella moves to stand in front of her, and Charlotte nods her head in agreement. She finally moves her arms and begins to help Isabella. Once her clothes are strewn across the room and she’s left in her chemise she helps Isabella out of her own. 

 

Finally, she drops her arms, her muscles quake with exhaustion. Isabella pulls back the covers and places a hand at Charlotte’s lower back, leading her under the covers. Charlotte curls into the covers but when she feels the bed dip with the weight of another she rolls to the other side so she can see Isabella. Once they’re both under the covers Charlotte raises a tired hand to Isabella’s cheek, she can feel her cheeks dampen as tears shed but they aren’t the vicious storm before. Her tears have calmed into a sullen silence.

 

Isabella pulls Charlotte closer to her, the two hold each other close and Isabella lets Charlotte cry into her bosom. Charlotte’s exhaustion doesn’t stop her tears, but the crying on top of her sleep-deprived body makes her fall into a soft slumber.

 

Her ears hear a soft whisper before she’s completely out, a soft whisper by her ear of the melodious voice she’s found warmth in. 

 

“I love you, my dear Charlotte.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just love them


End file.
